Lest We Grow Too Fond
by Allureofproductivity
Summary: In December 1861, Scott McCall left his home and pregnant wife and joined the 20th Maine. His little brother followed him.


Isaac Lahey entered her life five years after her son was born, on a particularly frigid December 14th. Melissa was the town midwife, and the knock on the door in the middle of the night come as a normal disturbance to the peace of the household. She had answered the door before her husband had even made a move to rise from the bed, surprised to see eight year old Camden Lahey standing on her doorstep with a hastily prepared lantern.

"Mother's gone into labor."

It was too early for the 26 year old woman to be giving birth and Melissa knew this, gathering up her supplies quickly and running from her house.  
The baby was born screaming and bluish in the face, a tiny little thing. She could cradle him within her palm and, upon realizing this, pursed her lips. His chances of survival were small, his mother's smaller. It was 3:00 in the morning before Clarissa Lahey passed on, her husband and son sitting outside the door of the bedroom. She opened the door hesitantly. Jacob Lahey was not a very stable man, even in the best of circumstances.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Lahey, but Clarissa didn't survive the birth. The baby has, if you wish to see him. He's beautiful, sir. Very tiny."

Camden had begun to sob loudly by the time Mr. Lahey made any move to acknowledge her presence. He had become very red in the face, practically shaking with fury and unrelentless grief. He spoke at her very quietly.

"He is no son of mine. I want him disposed of. I refuse to harbor the child who killed my wife."

"Mr. Lahey, I cannot simply dispose of a three hour old baby. Surely you-"

"NO. I WANT THAT LITTLE BEAST OUT OF MY HOME. IF YOU REFUSE TO COMPLY, I'LL KILL THE LITTLE BASTARD MYSELF."

Melissa juddered back, aghast at what was transpiring before her. How could a man not love his own son? She gathered her thoughts and started for the room behind her, if only to gather up the pitiful creature that this man had condemned to death.

"Very well, sir. I shall take him into my care."

"Be wary, woman. The devil has cursed that child."

Needless to say, Rafael was a bit shocked when she returned home at 5:00 in the morning with a sickly baby cradled to her chest and hot tears running down her cheeks without any sign on ceasing. They named him Isaac the next day, a bitter tribute to the father that had been willing to sacrifice him in revenge for the death of his beloved. She had always thought that bit of the Old Testament to be twisted, and after seeing it played out before her in such a warped way, she vowed to never read it again.

Five year old Scott was instantly smitten with his new baby brother, staring at the infant in such awe that she could not help but laugh in happiness. Isaac stared back with wide blue eyes, mouth working in confusion, tiny hands fisting against his blankets.

"Mama, why's he so little?"

"He's only a few days old, Scott. Give it time and he might be bigger than you, some day."

"Allison's bigger than me now, Mama, and she's a girl."

Melissa smiled at her oldest son.

"Some day that too will change, love."

And change their lives did. Two years after Isaac had become part of the family, Rafael enlisted in the army to fight a war with Mexico. Scott, now seven, held his brother on his lap and saluted clumsily from where he sat on a bench at the train station, watching as his father left for training and eventual combat. He would never return home. Rafael McCall would die of dysentery on the road to Mexico City, and she would be left to raise two boys by herself.

She had done a pretty decent job, if she had to decide. Scott was married and expecting a baby with Allison, the very girl he had been smitten with as a child. Isaac had just turned seventeen 11 days ago, and probably grown more since his birthday. He towered over her and Scott and Allison, all long limbs and bright smiles and a sharp tongue. He was set to graduate from secondary school in the spring. She had never been more proud of her sons than she was right now, sitting around a fire in Christmas night.

"Mother, I was wondering if I might make an announcement."

She looked to her oldest with slight trepidation. Scott was less likely than Isaac to have broken something or caused property damage, but the possibility was still there. After all, the last time he had an "announcement", she had owed Mr. Lewis down the road a new window. Or three.

Isaac looked up sharply from where he was sprawled on the sofa, the dog curled up against his side. He sat bolt upright before rising, wringing his hands. The border collie paced beside him, obviously agitated as well.

"You aren't seriously going to bring that up to her now, are you? Jesus Christ, Scott, it's Christmas."

Melissa rose as well, placing a steady hand on Isaac's shoulder. He melted slightly beneath her touch but remained rigid still, stress tightening his normally open face.

"Isaac, I don't have a choice. The volunteers leave in two days, they need to know now."

"Allison's three months pregnant, Scott. What happens to her if you die? I told you not to sign up!"

"Isaac-"

"No! If you go now, I'm going with you."

"Isaac, you're barely seventeen…"

"I don't care, I'll find a way. Someone has to protect you. For Allison. For the baby. You've protected me my whole life, Scott, and now I can return the favor."

He stormed through the front door, leaving a stunned and tense silence in his wake.  
He returned five hours later, stiff as a board in a brand new uniform. He was now Private Isaac McCall of the 20th Maine, and she held him to her as he shook.

"I'll bring him home, Momma. I'll bring Scott home."

"You bring yourself home too, mister."

"Yes'm. I will, Momma."

**So I was watching Gods and Generals. And this happened.**

**Stay Shiny**

**Allure**


End file.
